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I can see it’s already dawning on him what I’m going to say next, but I have to get the punch line in before he starts shouting.
“That’s the day that the teddy bears have their picnic!”
I laugh uproariously to dead silence.
“Well, we tried doing this the easy way, Miss Smith,” he says, unshouldering his weapon. He hands it to one of the soldiers next to me and advances on me. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but there’s violence in his eyes.
“Last chance. Tell me where Daniel is.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. I mean really, I don’t. He’s somewhere in the forest. They can probably work that out for themselves. “Maybe a teddy bear got him. Maybe the bears aren’t teddies at all…”
He lifts his hand high, the back of it sweeping down toward my head. I’m not fast enough to move out of the way, but I don’t have to. Two hundred and fifty pounds of pure male fury bursts out of the undergrowth and crashes into the soldier, sending him flying into a tree on the other side of the camp clearing.
There’s chaos. The other soldiers run forward, try to grab Daniel, but there’s no chance of that happening. He is too fast, he is absolutely furious, and his brute strength far exceeds their powers. Seeing him among the soldiers is like watching a gorilla do battle with a troupe of chimps. He’s bigger. He’s faster. He’s more brutal. There are knives drawn. Pistols unholstered. Backup is coming. This is about to get truly bloody.
In the midst of arms and legs flailing and shouting, I feel him pick me up under his arm and make a break through the forest. Loud explosions ring out behind us. Gunfire, slamming into trees and sending bits of bark puffing out around us. He’s never moved this quickly before. He’s sprinting at what feels like an impossible pace. He must have taken more of the drugs. He must have taken a whole lot more than usual.
He doesn’t say a word. He makes a ferocious, feral, grunting sound. Right now, he’s more like an animal than he is a man. I cling to him as the bullets sing out around us, squirming around to the front of him to avoid the fire.
I feel weak with fear. I am shaking and my fingers are somehow too cold and too weak to hold onto him properly. His strong arms hold me close against his chest as we run and run, fleeing for what feels like forever.
And then we stop. He peels me gently away from his massive form. There’s something wet between us. I see a bright smear of red on his abdomen.
“Oh, my god! You’ve been hit!
He shakes his head and points to me. Deep red blood is seeping across my shirt. It’s not him that was hit. It’s me.
* * *
Daniel
She sees her blood and her eyes roll back. She falls into a dead faint, a major mercy considering how painful that wound will soon be. She’s been gut shot.
I can barely think. The fury and the anger and the rage are shouting in my mind, animals wanting revenge. But I have to look after her. Have to fix her. Pressure on the wound. Yes. Okay. Examine her. Think. Think. Think. I have to force myself to focus, past the roar of the beasts in my mind.
There are two holes. The bullet went through her side just below her ribs. Exited through her stomach. Her intestines must be perforated in several places. If we were near a hospital, she might survive. But we are not. We are so far from everything there is no hope for her.
I am holding her innards together, near weeping for the death I know must be coming for her.
There is one thing I can do. Regenermax. A big dose. Administered orally and into the wounds themselves. It is the longest of the longshots. I don’t know if she will be able to absorb it. I don’t know if damage like this can be repaired.
But I know she’s dead either way if I don’t at least try.
I break open three vials. One I slip into her side, the other I pour into the exit wound. The third I drip carefully down her throat, massaging her neck to stimulate the swallowing reflex.
Regret. All is regret. I should never have taken her with me. I should never have left her alone. I thought I would lead the soldiers away from her, but predators always find the nest.
I pull her into my lap and I hold her. Her breathing is shallow. Her pulse is weak. She may last a matter of hours. She may last a few days. If she’s going to die, I hope for the former. I have no means of assuaging her pain.
